


Paid In Advance

by tielan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Conversations, Female Friendship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Humor, Missing Scene, Post-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:34:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1564838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria signed up to work for Stark Industries without ever asking about her salary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paid In Advance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [igrockspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/gifts).



> Hello, **igrockspock** , it's me (again), your friendly neighbourhood exchangee. Hope you enjoy this one!

Twenty-four minutes after her interview with Stark Industries Human Resources, Maria Hill has a job.

Forty-eight hours later, she receives her first paycheck in advance.

* * *

She skimmed the fine print when she signed up with Stark Industries. She signed the bottom of the salary page without really noticing what they were paying her.

Maria wasn’t in this for the money.

Stark had the tech, he wasn’t HYDRA, and he would fight to protect what was his. Maria understood that – respected it, even, although actually liking him certainly hadn’t been in the game plan. As it was, she smiled through the lie detector test – every word absolutely true since that was the only way to get through a lie detector – and was hired by Ms. Potts twenty-four minutes later.

But she didn’t look at her salary.

Which was why, when paying her bills less than a week after the Triskelion went down (regular weekends were definitely a novel experience, not that she planned to actually _take_ them), Maria logged into her bank app and her thought the bank had made a mistake.

She stared at the account balance for several seconds. She clicked on the link to her account details. She blinked at the number beside the line with the note ‘Payroll Services, Stark Industries’.

Then Maria called Pepper Potts.

* * *

“This is a terrible idea.”

“A terrible idea with much nicer clothing at the end of it.”

“I don’t need nicer clothing.”

“Stark Industries needs you to have nicer clothing, and so you need nicer clothing.”

“Don’t you have other things to do?”

“Not in the name of seeing the Stark Industries' Head of Operational Security dressed appropriately,” Pepper says with the unshakable serenity that dealt with Tony Stark’s arrogant vagaries for ten years and still hasn’t worn through.

Maria stares out the window at the expensive streets with their fancy shops that are only getting fancier. The names slide past her – brands she’d never have imagined buying in fifty years, because wearing Armani is just asking for it to get torn. Or burned. Or stained with some biochemist’s latest experiment gone wrong, usually involving goo of the flesh-eating variety.

S.H.I.E.L.D. is— _was_ about as safe as a barfight, and nearly as hygienic.

Then again, given that HYDRA grew in the shadow of S.H.I.E.L.D, maybe the barfight _is_ safer.

 _“_ You hired me knowing my dress sense.”

“Yes,” Pepper agrees pleasantly. “But I didn’t know what you wore to the interview was the best thing you owned.”

Maria doesn’t say that her job at S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t require her to dress well.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform wasn’t the most stylish outfit Maria could have worn, but she was very comfortably anonymous in it. One more soldier. Nobody of note – a flunky standing behind Fury. Anonymous was good – anonymous _worked_. It got the job done, and it gave her the freedom to watch Fury’s back.

Someone needed to after Phil’s ‘death’.

“We’re not going for an entire wardrobe,” Pepper says. “But you do need more than one business suit.”

“I have more than one business suit.”

“More than one business suit that doesn’t look like it came off the rack at ‘ _Discount Suits ‘R Us_ ’.”

“I didn’t know you were such a snob.”

“I’m not. Unfortunately, a lot of the people you’ll be dealing with at the Department of Justice _are_. And while clothes don’t make the woman, trust me,” she gives Maria a thin little smile, “they make a big difference.”

* * *

A week ago, Maria didn’t know that boots came in ‘cloud softness’. She didn’t know there were colours that didn’t wash her out. She didn’t think there were clothing designs capable of making her look like she actually had a figure.

The truth was, a week ago, she didn’t care.

A week later, with S.H.I.E.L.D down and HYDRA hunted, with Steve and Wilson and Fury gone dark, and the Congressional hearings in full and painstaking swing, Maria _has_ to care.

And she’s starting to see why Victoria Hand likes her suits with creases sharp enough to cut a body if they get too close.

Clothes might not make the woman, but they sure help when taking on a bunch of idiot politicians and even more idiot military who seem to believe they should get the last word on world security. Considering they can’t even manage a country without tripping over their own vested self-interests, Maria doesn’t hold out much hope for the world if US Congress gets their hands on the remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Or maybe there is something in retail therapy after all.

“All right,” Maria tells Pepper as they get out of the car at the restaurant Pepper booked for lunch, “you can stop gloating now.”

Pepper doesn’t say a word. She just smiles in the elevator, all the way up to the restaurant.

They’re seated in a private alcove, looking out across the city. Maria notes their position maintains an excellent view of the restaurant while still managing to conceal them quite effectively. The menu doesn’t have prices and the maitre’d inquires after Stark.

Maria orders a steak – it’s the simplest item on the menu and comes with fries. Given how much the dish is going to cost, she’d better chip a tooth on them.

“Another Stark property?”

Pepper is fiddling with her phone. “It’s somewhere we can talk.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It’s not supposed to be.” Then she puts the phone down on the table between them. A circular icon on the screen is spinning, growing larger and smaller by turns. “I wouldn’t discuss business here. But sometimes it’s nice not to have to watch every word I say.”

Maria has never liked the media very much. She suspects she’s going to become even less fond of it in the coming weeks – although various branches of the media might very well vie with various US ‘Intelligence’ agencies and military organisations for Maria’s award of Biggest Waste Of Resources, Especially Considering HYDRA Is Still Out There.

“Am I going to get that app?” She taps one finger on the tablecloth by the phone.

“I’ll have JARVIS load it in with your update suite.” Pepper folds her hands in her lap and looks directly at Maria. “So, Ms. Hill, what do you think of the clothes?”

“They’re nice enough.”

“But you don’t have the urge to go out and buy everything in sight?”

Maria lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I only have one body and I can only wear so much clothing in a day, unless I wear it all at once. But that’s not a popular look on Capitol Hill.”

“You might start a trend.”

“The Bag Ladies Of Discredited Intelligence Agencies look? I can’t see it catching on.”

But this conversation isn’t about fashion or style-setting, or even the shopping trip they undertook today. This is about Pepper sizing her up during the shopping trip, working out who she is, what makes her tick – both a personal and a personnel judgement from a woman accustomed to dealing with all types and kinds of people in her daily work.

Maria doesn’t play games; she can, and she might have to if she’s going to stay afloat in Stark Industries, but she’d rather be blunt and have all the issues laid out from the beginning.

She figures now is a good time to start putting them out.

“So, Ms. Potts, what do you think of _me_?”

“I think we can work together.”

“There was any doubt?”

“I find it better to work with people I like. It’s not necessary, of course, but it helps.”

“Having a common goal helps. Liking is optional.”

A dark blonde eyebrow lifts, curious. “And our common goal would be?”

“Protecting what’s ours. Keeping the US Government from claiming proprietary tech. Managing Stark. You’ll have to give me a little longer to put out a full-blown mission statement,” Maria notes dryly. “I haven’t had to do one of those since I first started with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Pepper smiles. A real smile – not the polite or friendly one, but the one that shows real amusement, real appreciation. “A mission statement would be nice – but isn’t necessary. Not yet, anyway.” The amusement deepens. “I presume you came to a conclusion about me, too?”

“Other than that you overpay your underlings? Of course.”

Maria doesn’t elaborate. Pepper doesn’t ask for clarification.

“It’s true, your paycheck is large, even for Stark Industries executives. However, you'll be earning it in your dealings with Tony.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“And,” Pepper adds as the _sommelière_ approaches with the wine, “I expect you won’t be spending it all on yourself.”

And this is why they’re going to work together so well. Maria smiles as the wine is poured. “I can think of a number of beneficial works the extra could go towards.”

The chiming tap of their wineglasses rings out their silent accord.

* * *

The scent of coffee has permeated the rest of the apartment when Steve comes out from the shower, towelling his hair dry. He'll need a haircut soon – the shaggy look is not his style, even if Sam keeps trying to persuade him to let it grow out a little.

His buddy, life coach, personal style critic, and right-hand man is already on the computer, clicking and tapping away – checking mail, following up articles, answering their contacts.

Or maybe just checking their funds.

“Sugar Mama’s come through,” Sam says as Steve heads to the stove where the coffee is boiling in the little Turkish-style coffee-pot. “I looked at our balance this morning; we’re in gravy again.”

Steve frowns a little. “If Maria’s our ‘Sugar Mama’, shouldn’t one of us be...”

He trails off at Sam’s pointed look and blushes all the way down his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> If Steve's on Sam's left, that makes Sam Steve's right-hand man. I'm just sayin'.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Very Promising Partnership (The Bullets and Business Suits Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7539025) by [igrockspock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/pseuds/igrockspock)




End file.
